


There comes a point

by WanderingSummerBreeze



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:50:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11874837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/pseuds/WanderingSummerBreeze
Summary: I left the fandom due to so much drama. This may be the last one, I dunno. Wrote it for a friend. It's short, and yet it took about two weeks to write. Shows you where I feel on all of this. But the idea is, set in S1.





	There comes a point

There comes a point, when the looks across the room, the fleeting touches across the wooden, whisky-drenched bar, aren’t enough to satiate the thirst. A point, when desire over-rules sensibilities. When your insides just may burst if you don’t take hold of her and take her body for yours.

_My hands slid up her legs, eagerness and tenderness dripping from my fingertips, as they slipped under her skirt, finding her perfectly shaped thighs; the heat from her center, washing my hands in salty sweat._

There comes a point, when the grip of your own hand on your hard cock, doesn’t bring you pleasure, or even exercise the demons that so cruelly leave you with blue-balls, even after an exhaustive orgasm.

_My fingers rounded her ass, pulling her in closer, inhaling her sex, as the fingers from my hand, stroked her bare folds from behind. The juices, freely flowing, claiming a wayward finger for its own, devouring it with a flood of honey; a drowning no man would fight._

There comes a point, when the world could damn itself to hell, but you can’t go one more minute without the touch of her fingers on your skin, her breath against your neck, as she calls out your name. YOUR name. No one else’s.

_On my knees, I held her close. Her breathy cries of my name falling from her lips; her nails, digging into the suit jacket I hadn’t had time to take off, as my fingers played inside her, like a pianist, making love to the smooth keys before him. She climaxed within moments, and while I should have been thinking of how the clenching of her muscles would milk my cock; drinking its seed like the desert ground with the first fall of rain, I could do nothing but enjoy her pleasure through her quivering body._

There comes a point, when she knows, like you, that you can no longer fight it. That giving in just may lead to hell. But, oh, what a most beautiful and inviting thing, the devil can be.

I watched as she glided, graceful as a ballet dancer, across the floor, greeting those that came within eyesight, with a warm smile and eyes that lit the room afire. It took her a few moments to sense me, skulking in the shadows with my fingers wrapped around the whisky glass, but when she did, her body straightened, and the curve of her mouth rose in a smile, loving me, and berating me for my introvertism, at the same time.

Her eyes shifted to and fro, gauging her surroundings, before she headed toward me, plucking the glass from my hand, and downing the rest of the single malt, with her eyes firmly daring mine, to steal the drink back.

Whisky be-damned.

_Her recovery was not swift, as I stood before her, steading her rocking form. I could see the sweat from her brow, softly pulling the dim light in for reflection. I cupped her face, beautiful blue eyes, fluttering, awakening in my embrace. Her hands came up to rest on mine. I thought I saw of flicker of panic, a retreat tactic forming in her mind. But if it was there, it was only for a moment, before she pulled my body to hers._

The drink left a refreshing stain on her lips. I could feel my tongue dart out, moistening my own lips, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. I watched her eyes lower, dropping her head a moment. Embarrassed, perhaps? Calculating her next move? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was, the point at which the pot becomes scalding, was very near its tipping point and all in its path, would be burned.

_Our clothes led a pathway to damnation; her body, the altar._

_Our naked bodies joined together against the wall, her arms up high, gripping the archway as I mercilessly pushed in and out of her. I held onto anything that aided my merciless, relentless, claims to her. My name upon her lips, once breathy and erotic, had turned into panted cries and screams of pleasure she did very little to hide._

_Her hands fell to my naked back and I stumbled with out bodies against the desk, quickly releasing my penis from her wet heat, she turned around, bending over the desk, and I entered her swiftly once more. Like a whore, begging to be owned, I slammed into her; her knuckles going white as they gripped the desk, the phone, the notepad, anything the gave her leverage. Months of agony at not touching, finally breaking._

_But for ever surge of male ego and ownership against her, my hands would hold her in ways you held a thing of fragility and beauty. Like a butterfly, she was, beneath my fingertips._

Her hair was pulled back in a bun, a black silk ribbon tied loosely around and falling across her shoulders. I followed the path of her neck, long and sexy, down to her collarbone. I could feel my chest tighten, my fingers rubbing against themselves, desperate to reach out and touch her skin; watch the goosebumps as they rose on her flesh, when I did.

Her head rose slightly, tilting to the side, as her eyes found mine. I shifted quickly, getting caught in my adoration of her body.

_Already loosened, I tore the black ribbon from her hair, one hand pushing through the dark tendrils that fell around her shoulders, the other, leaving her hips, and rounding to her front. I pulled her up, her back to my chest, kissing her neck, licking the sweat and nipping the skin._

_She turned her head and captured my lips in a fevered kiss, the burn only pushing us on._

_I reached down, one arm bending her legs, while the other wrapped around her waist, picking her up from behind. I walked us to the couch, setting her down before me. My intention was, well, I had no other intention, but to see her face before me, but she quickly turned on the couch, and took my cock in her hands. I gasped as she stroked me, her eyes growing wide at its size. Her mouth covered the head, and when her eyes looked up to mine, I wanted to die._

She coughed under her breath and glanced around. I could see her chest rising and falling quickly. Her breasts, capturing and holding my attention in their hypnotizing actions. When her eyes met mine once more, I knew. We knew.

_I pushed her to stop. I would not cum inside her mouth. Not now. Not for the first time. I would claim those lips and tongue later. She understood, and pulled me down to the couch, quickly straddling my seated form. And when I entered her, it was on her terms._

_She rose and fell against me, slowly, savouring the exquisite pleasure, inch by inch as her hands braced themselves on my chest; mine wrapped around her heated flesh._

_Occasionally, she would bend to kiss me, or nibble on my nipples. Her eyes would close, desire overtaking her, mine would as well. Then they would open again, and she’d smile._

_Her hips slowly sped up, and as we neared our peak together, she took hold of my wrist, extending my arm, and placed it back against the couch, diving her tongue into the pit._

There comes a point, when the world just falls away and you take that one final step, crossing over the line - together.

And that point was 20 minutes ago.

_I had never had anyone do this, and for the love of all things holy and true, I will forever be thankful for her devious mind, for the eroticism of the act, shot straight through my body, and I filled her body with semen. In the end, it wasn’t my name falling from her lips as she climaxed for the second time. But hers, falling from mine._

_“Caitriona!”_

 

 


End file.
